My Sister's Lies

by S. D. Robertson

  ‘What were you thinking of doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I was reading online that Central Library is pretty modern and fun. I was thinking about going there for a bit.’

  Hannah was taken aback by this, which was a million miles away from what she’d expected to hear. She wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it, knowing Mia’s fondness for reading. How could she say no?

  ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ she said. ‘Do you know where it is? It’s only a short walk. We passed it the other day when we went to Manchester Art Gallery, which is very nearby.’

  ‘I remember,’ Mia replied. ‘So you’re okay with it, then?’

  ‘I guess so, as long as you’re careful and take your phone with you. Do call me if you have any problems whatsoever. Manchester is a lot bigger than Bournemouth, remember, and there are plenty of unsavoury types about, so you need to keep your wits about you and your hands on your purse at all times, okay?’

  ‘Sure.’ Mia was grinning now, obviously excited at the prospect of enjoying some freedom.

  ‘You can take my library card, if you like. That way if you see any books you fancy, you can always borrow them.’

  ‘Thanks. That would be great.’

  ‘If libraries are your thing,’ Hannah added, ‘there’s also a place called the John Rylands that you should visit. It’s on Deansgate, if you remember where that is. I’m sure you could get directions from your phone. It’s more than a hundred years old and very atmospheric. Somehow it always reminds me of Harry Potter’s school, Hogwarts.’

  ‘Really? That sounds good. Maybe I’ll go there too.’

  ‘Good. But before you go anywhere, I want you to let me have any dirty clothes that need washing and I’ll sort them out for you. I can’t have you running out now, can I?’

  ‘Okay, will do. Thanks.’

  Forty-five minutes or so later, Mia had delivered her pile of washing to Hannah and was ready to head out on her first solo expedition.

  ‘Do you have any money?’ Hannah asked her at the front door of the apartment. She reached for her purse, which was in her handbag on the coat rack. ‘Because I can always—’

  ‘No,’ Mia replied. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Mum left me with a bit and, when I spoke to her the other day, she said she’d put some in my bank account. I have a cash card, so …’

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure,’ Hannah replied, impressed. ‘You’ve got my number saved in your phone, right? And you’ll keep it on in case I need to get hold of you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Hannah stepped forward and gave Mia a kiss on the cheek. ‘Have fun and be careful.’

  ‘I will. Bye.’

  ‘Goodbye.’

  And with that, Hannah suddenly had the apartment to herself again.

  Bizarrely, the first thing she chose to do with this freedom was peek in Mia’s bedroom. She didn’t want to pry, but rather to see what state it was in and whether it needed cleaning.

  It was a bit of a mess, unfortunately. The bed was unmade and, although Mia’s wet towel wasn’t hanging over the bedroom door, it was balled up in one corner of the floor, which was arguably worse. At least that explained the musty smell.

  The curtains were still closed, so Hannah opened them and then the window to let in some fresh air. She saw that Mia was using the spare single bed as a general dumping ground for her stuff. This made Hannah twitchy, but she resisted the temptation to tidy up, other than to move the wet towel to its correct location on the rail in the bathroom. She did allow herself to give the room a quick once-over with the hoover and duster, being careful not to move any of Mia’s personal items, for fear of looking like she’d been snooping. For the same reason, she resisted making the bed or changing the sheets, but she made a mental note to do the latter in her niece’s presence once she returned.

  As Hannah finished up in Mia’s room, shutting the window again to make it less obvious she’d been there, she heard a knock at the door.

  Surely that couldn’t be her back already, she thought.

  It wasn’t. It was Kathy from down the hall.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ Hannah said, beaming at her closest friend from the apartment complex: a chirpy widow in her early seventies who’d always reminded her of her late mother. They often had a brew and a chat together, but Kathy had been away for the past three weeks on a coach trip around America with an old friend. ‘So how was the holiday?’ she asked after giving Kathy a big hug and inviting her inside.

  ‘Oh, it was wonderful,’ Kathy replied, running a hand through her short, curly white hair. ‘But I’ve got terrible jetlag now. My poor old body’s got literally no idea what time it is any more. And all that food they made me eat … goodness me.’ She patted her ample stomach, shaking her head and wearing a wry grin.

  ‘Would a cuppa help?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Kathy giggled, following Hannah through to the kitchen and helping herself to a seat at the table. ‘It always helps, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Definitely tea, please. Honestly, those Americans: they’re lovely and all, but no one managed to make me a proper brew the whole time I was over there. That was one of the things I missed most.’

  ‘Tell me all about it, then,’ Hannah said as she filled the kettle.

  A while later, after Kathy had provided her neighbour with a thorough and often hilarious summary of the trip and the various characters she’d met along the way, she turned the conversation back to Hannah.

  ‘So enough about me,’ she said. ‘How are things with you and Mark? What’s new? Any gossip?’

  ‘Well, it’s not just the two of us at the moment, Kathy. We have a house guest.’

  She spent the next few minutes bringing her neighbour up to speed on the situation.

  ‘Well, you won’t believe this,’ Kathy replied. ‘But I’ve got a visitor arriving on Sunday too. Do you remember my grandson, Todd?’

  ‘Of course. How old is he now?’

  ‘Thirteen. And he’s coming to stay for a fortnight while his mum and dad get a new kitchen and bathroom fitted at their home in Lancaster. The place will be a building site while the work’s underway. Goodness knows why they decided to get it all done in one go, but they were keen for him to be out of the way, so I offered to have him stay here.’

  After pausing to take a big sip from the large mug of tea Hannah had made for her, Kathy added: ‘I was actually a bit worried about how I would keep him occupied for two weeks. Perhaps he and … sorry, what did you say your niece was called again?’

  ‘Mia.’

  ‘Perhaps he and Mia could keep each other company some of the time. You know, assuming they get along okay and they want to do that.’

  Hannah, who’d met Todd several times and remembered him as a quiet but polite boy, nodded and smiled. ‘Do you know what, Kathy? That sounds fantastic. I’ve no idea how long Mia’s going to be with us for, but I’d be more than happy to introduce them and see what happens. She’s just gone out on her own for the first time, which I’m not entirely comfortable with; I’d be much happier if she had someone with her. I’ll run it by her later on, but I can’t see why she’d mind. I get the impression she’s dying for some company her own age.’

  Pleased by this unexpected turn of events, Hannah raised her mug and chinked it against Kathy’s. ‘Cheers,’ she said. ‘It’s good to have you back.’

  CHAPTER 7

  Mark looked at the clock on the wall of his office: 3.36 p.m. Time seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace this Thursday afternoon. He had plenty to do, as usual, but he couldn’t get his mind into gear.

  Having that pint of lager at lunchtime had been a mistake. A few of the senior staff had gone out for a bite to eat at the pub and Mark hadn’t been able to resist. The Mia and Diane situation had been playing on his mind all morning and he’d hoped a little alcohol might take the edge off.

  It had certainly helped him relax and put aside his problems for the hour o
r so they were out. But once back at his desk, he’d started to feel sleepy and maudlin. At one point he’d had to take himself off to the loos to splash cold water on his face and – in a low moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering where this would all end – he’d barely avoided bursting into tears.

  Thankfully, he had no meetings scheduled for the rest of the afternoon and the office was quieter than usual, due to it being peak holiday season. He was supposed to be concentrating on clearing the paperwork accumulating in his in-tray and catching up with all the unanswered emails in his inbox. But instead he found himself using his phone’s web browser to research DNA paternity testing.

  This was something he’d started thinking about after failing to make direct contact with Diane. He’d tried phoning her numerous times now, leaving her five voicemails as well as sending three texts. He’d been careful in terms of what he actually said or wrote, making no specific reference to the real reason he desperately wanted to speak to her, but he hadn’t received any response at all.

  She had at least phoned Mia eventually and sent Hannah a text. So where was his reply? How dare she ignore him after dropping that bombshell last Saturday! It was so out of order, particularly as it had left him fearful of what she was up to; fretting over whether she was on the brink of coming clean to Hannah too.

  As for Mia, having spent some time with her now, he was pretty sure she had no knowledge about it so far. Whether or not that would remain the case depended on her mother. However, for all her faults, he couldn’t see Diane wanting to mess with her daughter’s head over such a sensitive issue.

  She apparently had no such qualms about messing with his head, though. For the umpteenth time in the last few days, Mark’s mind jumped back to that one-to-one discussion they’d around eleven years earlier in the aftermath of Maggie’s death and the couple of days he’d spent looking after Mia.

  ‘I’ll tell you the truth if that’s what you really want, Mark,’ Diane had said to him.

  And then, if what she was now claiming to be true was to be believed, she’d done the exact opposite and told him a pack of lies.

  ‘Of course I want to know the truth,’ Mark told his sister-in-law. ‘You owe me that at least.’

  He wished Diane wasn’t wearing the green top she’d borrowed from Hannah, which almost made him feel like he was talking to his wife. This exacerbated his sense of guilt and brought back to mind the events of that damned night, when he was now convinced Mia had been conceived. He usually did his best to avoid thinking about it, especially around Diane, since doing so served no purpose. The fact was that he’d slept with his wife’s sister and hidden it from Hannah ever since. Dwelling on the matter wouldn’t change a thing.

  It terrified Mark that, by pushing to discover the truth about Mia, he risked opening a can of worms that could devastate his marriage. But he couldn’t stop himself.

  ‘So is she my daughter?’ he asked, sitting forward in his chair and taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

  After a long pause that made Mark want to shout at her to stop playing games, Diane finally replied. ‘No, she’s not. It’s nice that you bonded with her, though. She is still your niece and, seeing as her father isn’t around, it’s good for her to spend quality time with a close male relative.’

  ‘What?’ Mark snapped. ‘I thought you said you were going to tell me the truth, Diane. How’s this any different to what you’ve said to me before?’

  ‘Give me a minute, will you? But you can’t repeat what I tell you: not even to Hannah. If you do, well, you’ll force me to deny it and reveal that we slept together.’

  ‘Why would you threaten to do that?’ he said in a raised voice, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘If I’m not Mia’s father, then what purpose would it serve other than to break your sister. Is that really what you want?’

  ‘Keep it down, please,’ Diane replied in little more than a whisper, ‘or you’ll wake Mia up. Is that what you want?’

  Mark didn’t reply, taking a minute to calm down while she glared at him. God, she was a piece of work. How could she and Hannah have such different temperaments, despite being raised in exactly the same environment?

  ‘If I wanted to tell Hannah, I’d have already done so by now,’ Diane said. ‘But if I tell you this, I need to know you won’t repeat it.’

  ‘Fine,’ Mark replied, sighing. ‘But whoever this man is, how can you be so certain he’s the father and I’m not?’

  ‘For a start, I know when I took precautions and when I didn’t. But I’ve also had a test carried out to be sure. The father paid for it and now we have an agreement whereby I keep quiet about his involvement and he does the right thing financially.’

  ‘Doesn’t he want to be involved in Mia’s life?’

  ‘We both agreed it wasn’t a good idea.’

  Mark shook his head and took another swig of his beer. ‘So are you going to tell me or not?’

  ‘Do I have your word you won’t repeat this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Fine, it’s a bloke I used to work for – an old boss of mine. He’s quite a bit older than me and married with kids of his own. We had a short affair. There were no real feelings: it was just sex. Things were already over by the time I discovered I was pregnant. Neither of us wanted any more from the relationship. He was never going to leave his family and I didn’t want him to, so we reached our agreement instead. He’s kept up his side of the bargain – financially, I mean – and I’m happy with that.’

  Mark paused, expecting Diane to elaborate, but instead she took a swig from her bottle of beer and stared at him, apparently waiting for a response.

  ‘Seriously?’ he asked. ‘That’s all you’re going to tell me? And his name?’

  ‘That’s irrelevant. It’s none of your business. I’ve already told you more than I’ve told anyone else.’

  ‘What about Mia?’ Mark asked. ‘You’re happy for her to grow up without a father?’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of deciding what’s best for my daughter, thank you very much.’

  Mark knew better than to push this any further. He finished his drink and made his excuses. Why stay? If he wasn’t Mia’s father, what more was there for the two of them to discuss? All in all he felt pretty stupid, wondering what had gone through his head to make him so sure Mia was his daughter. He was also uncomfortable about having discussed his and Diane’s night of shame, which neither of them had mentioned in a long time. Doing so was like reopening an old wound; it felt more real as a result, sharpening his sense of guilt and increasing the negativity he felt towards his sister-in-law.

  As for Mia, he couldn’t simply switch off the powerful feelings he’d developed over the past couple of days. Whatever he felt about her mother, she was a lovely, sweet little girl. He’d have to settle for calling her his niece.

  In the car on the way home, Mark gave himself a firm talking-to. ‘Come on,’ he said to his reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘Stop sulking. You should be glad about what you’ve learned. You never wanted kids anyway; especially not with Diane. And where would you be now if she’d told you otherwise? You’d be panicking about what to do next, terrified your marriage was doomed. Move on now, Mark. Get on with your life and forget about this.’

  The sound of Mark’s desk phone ringing snapped him out of his memories and back into the present. He shook his head to try to clear the fog and, stifling a yawn, picked up the receiver. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Mark. It’s Sharon on reception. Sorry to bother you. I’m actually looking for Adam King, but he’s not answering his line. Do you know if he’s around?’

  Mark looked up, glad it wasn’t a call for him. He spotted Adam, who’d also been at the pub earlier, talking to another colleague on the far side of the office. ‘Yes, I can see him. If you send the call back to his desk, I’ll let him know to take it. Who’s calling?’

  ‘Joe Wilder.’

  ‘Right. I’ll tell him.’

&nbs
p; Mark jumped to his feet and called over to Adam, the firm’s commercial director, who flashed him a thumbs-up and dashed back to his desk to take the call.

  Mark frowned at his busy in-tray and was about to start tackling it when he was overtaken by an urge to have another quick look on his phone about DNA testing. He recalled reading newspaper articles and seeing TV programmes about how easy it was to do these days: something his searches so far had confirmed. However, they’d also thrown a spanner in the works, in that his initial idea had been to do it secretly, without Mia or Diane’s knowledge, and that no longer looked feasible.

  He’d pictured being able to sneak some hairs from Mia’s brush and post them off to a lab together with whatever sample was required from him. But the more he read online, the less likely an option that became. Apparently hairs were only useful if they included the root and up to ten could be required; even then, they were less reliable than the favoured option of an oral swab.

  What’s more, he’d also discovered it was illegal for DNA testing to be carried out in the UK without the consent of the person from whom the sample was taken or, in the case of minors, someone with parental responsibility for them. It was even illegal simply to collect a DNA sample from someone without their explicit consent.

  In other words, there was little chance of him being able to get a paternity test done without involving Diane and Mia. Certainly not if he wanted to stay on the right side of the law anyway. He kept looking, though, in the vague hope he might somehow find a way.

  It probably would have been quicker to look using his desktop, but he didn’t want there to be a digital record of the sites he’d been visiting that one of the IT guys might come across. He also used his personal phone, rather than his work one, making sure to clear his browsing history afterwards.

  All the actions of a guilty man, he thought. And he was inevitably digging himself deeper. Every new secret he kept from Hannah, every extra deception, was like a needle unpicking a crucial defence: that his mistake, horrendous as it was, had happened once, about fifteen years ago, and never been repeated.